


On Black Wings

by DarkscytheDrake



Category: Fairy Tail, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Action/Adventure, Adventure, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anti-Hero, Character Growth, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Crossover, Death, Dragon Slayer Magic (Fairy Tail), Dragons, Drama, Fantasy, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Lighthearted moments, Magic, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Mercenaries, Moral Ambiguity, Moral Dilemmas, Morally Grey Harry Potter, No Gary Stu, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:28:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29411238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkscytheDrake/pseuds/DarkscytheDrake
Summary: After suffering a beating from his uncle, Harry is whisked away to a small village. After living there for a month, Dark Guild wizards arrive and attack the village, killing Harry's friend in the process. His magic whisks him away once more to the doorstep of...the Dragon King. How will Harry turn out? Alive!Potters.
Relationships: Cobra | Erik & Cubellios | Kinana, Harry Potter & Acnologia, Harry Potter/Kagura Mikazuchi, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. Prologue

**Hi, this is something that I have been itching to write for a long time. This story was inspired by the great works of Lupine Horror and Arawn D. Draven (who has helped me think up ideas for this fic). This formula has been used before, but I have never tried it so…yeah.**

**There** **will be bashing of Dumbledore, Weasleys and Potters here** **, but I will try and describe them so that they are** **people with reasons acting like they did.** **Everything has a reason for happening, including for what characters did to deserve bashing. I wish to thank Arawn D. Draven for giving me permission to use those reasons. I will give out these reasons in due time, so be patient.** **The same will go for any OOCness you might see.**

**Hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is welcome!**

**Prologue**

Seven-year-old Harry Potter was sitting in the library of his school, reading a book. He was trying to get away from his cousin Dudley and his gang after they tried to chase him and beat him at the playground. Even though he didn’t want to, he knew that at one point he would have to go back to class. Then when school was done, he would have to go back to his aunt and uncle, who would either pile more chores on him if he was lucky, or lock him in his cupboard. For a seven-year-old, Harry was rather thin and small, since he barely got to eat food, the Dursleys saying that it was a “waste of money”. Despite this, Harry was rather intelligent for his age. He always had to do worse than Dudley lest his uncle finds out and locks him in his cupboard under the stairs. 

So here he was, sitting in the library, the one place in his entire school that Dudley and his friends would never enter. His cousin hated reading books, saying that they were “too hard.” He had just finished a nice picture book and was about to return it when he saw a big red book peeking out from one of the shelves, its spine a glittering silver. Being drawn to it, he put the book down on the table and went over to the shelf. He grabbed a nearby stool and pulled down the book, and when he looked at its cover he slightly widened his little green eyes in surprise: On the cover was the circular picture of a green, fire-breathing dragon with golden words at the center:

_ Dragonology: The Complete Book of Dragons. _

Harry had never seen a book like this before. The Dursleys would never let any book or game in their house that had something “freakish” in it, like magic. Once Dudley bought a fantasy game home from one of his friends, and he heard from the kitchen his aunt and uncle screaming at him and throwing the game away. At least they didn’t take it out on him, which they usually did whenever magic was mentioned. Still, he had heard about dragons; what kid didn’t?

He unknowingly licked his lips in anticipation and went to open the book; before he did that, he glanced at a clock on the wall. He had time. He opened the book to the first page, which had the drawing of a dragon sleeping next to a man with a notebook. Next to it, the following passage was inscribed:

_ “Among all the kindes of beestes and Serpentes, there is none comparable to the mightie Dragon in awesome power and majestie, and few so worthy of the diligent studies of wise men…”  _

With those words, young Harry Potter was drawn into the world of the mighty beasts that the book described. Every fact about them entranced and fascinated him, filled him with a sense of wonder he had not thought was possible for him to feel; their razor-sharp claws, their perfect eyes, their iron scales and their deadly breath of flames. Not just that, but dragons, it seemed, were different in shape and size depending on where you looked! Wings and flame in the west, long and water in the east, and other mystifying descriptions.

Unfortunately for Harry, his silent fascination was broken by the sound of the recess bell. He looked down at his book with a small hint of dread. The Dursleys would never allow him to take it home, but if he left it here, some other kid would just take it. Harry didn’t want that; he wasn’t done reading! He wanted to know more, to see more of their strength. What could he do?

He looked around the library trying to think of a solution when he saw a large bean-bag propped up against a small desk filled with shelves. An idea started to form in his head. What if...?

He rushed over to the bean-bag and made sure no one was approaching. He then closed the book and placed it in the bottom shelf of the desk, hidden from sight by the bean-bag. He then adjusted the bag to completely hide the book, and when he was done he ran out of the library, hoping he was not late for class. As he ran, he had a small smile on his face as the pages he had read from the book slowly started to form in his mind.

**-OBW-**

For the next month or so, Harry ventured to the library every recess after he had made sure Dudley or his friends didn’t see him. The  _ Dragonology  _ book was always kept hidden behind that bean-bag in the corner and every time he opened the book, he let out a sigh of relief that no one had found it. Which was odd, since the librarian was always present when he entered. He had already read the book several times over, but its contents, no matter how little they were, never ceased to amaze him and fill his head with fantasies; not even the Dursleys, their chores, their abuse and their hatred of him quelled his excitement waiting for school every day, just to read that book. 

Every little detail about the dragons excited him: they were described as nearly invincible, lived across the world, their forms different depending on where he went. From the fearsome winged height of the wyvern to the elegant rainbow feathers of the Amphithere and the graceful form of the Long, each dragon was fascinating in its own way. Every part of their body was detailed and unique as well: their sight was unequaled, their scales bulletproof, their fiery breath (for those who had it) seared all in its wake. 

Harry was simply amazed; they were just so…powerful! They were so strong! Stronger than anything else! They didn’t care if people thought that they were freaks; they were too strong to care! The most fascinating thing that Harry found about them however, was their power of flight; how they could fly and roam wherever they wanted, letting no one stop them. They possessed a quality that the little boy desired to have most of all: they possessed freedom. Pure freedom. Oh, how Harry wished that he could be free as them. That he could just grow leathery wings and iron scales and fly away to the great unknown, away from his…family. 

The only time that he had come close to such a feeling was a few days ago when Dudley and his gang had managed to find him before he could sneak off to the library and chase him. He ran into a dead end and thought for sure that they were going to get him, but suddenly he found himself standing on the rooftop of the school with no idea of how he got there. Any normal child would have panicked and called for help, but Harry just stared at the view that was laid out in front of him. For a moment there, he felt like a dragon; soaring through the sky not letting anything stop him. Unfortunately for the boy, one of the teachers spotted him and made a mess of things. When he got back ‘home’, only the memories of the book and the fact that he would see it again managed to keep him hopeful as Vernon slammed his head twice against the wall and flung him into the cupboard. 

He didn’t know how he had appeared on the roof; the Dursleys called it his “freakishness”. He would’ve grown more depressed but every time he thought about it, that he really was an unwanted freak, the image of the fire-breathing dragon on the book’s cover popped into his head and kept those thoughts at bay. So what if they thought he was a freak? Dragons could also be considered freaks and they didn’t care. Harry had wished over and over again that he could be strong like the dragons, that he could stand up to his relatives but he just…couldn’t.

Right now, Harry sat in the library rereading the section about taming dragons. That particular section had always troubled him, despite all his love for the book. No matter the justifications that it gave him and his acknowledgment of that fact, Harry just couldn’t picture a creature so powerful being tamed. They shouldn’t be. 

He glanced up at the clock and saw that the bell would soon ring for class. Sighing, he returned the book to its hiding place and went to the exit. Just before he did though, something caught his eye again like  _ Dragonology  _ had when he had first opened it. Sitting on the very same shelf that he had first plucked the red book from, was a much smaller red-spined book. But even from afar and with his weird glasses, he recognized the telltale golden words of  _ Dragonology  _ written on the spine. Harry’s excitement level just burst through the roof; there was more? He had to find out! Unfortunately for him, the bell suddenly rang. Harry started to panic; he couldn’t leave that book! Someone might take it! He took a quick look at the librarian’s desk and saw that she wasn’t there. Not even pausing to blink, Harry dashed to the shelf, snatched the small book and ran out of the library and back to class, all the while clutching the book to his chest. He quickly entered class and shoved the book in his bag before the teacher noticed.

As the school day kept going, all of Harry’s thoughts were directed at the little treasure in his bag. He couldn’t wait for the day to end so he could sneak the book in his cupboard and read it. 

Eventually, the end-of-day bell rang and all of the children ran out the school doors, Harry included. He ran all the way back home, excited at the prospect of reading his new book, and nervous because of what might happen to him should his aunt and uncle find him late or worse, find the book. 

He slowed down when he reached Number 4 Privet Drive. That was one place he would love to see a dragon burn down. Shuddering, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal his aunt Petunia, a thin, blonde, horse-faced woman standing there with a frown on her face and wearing a white dress. ‘ _ That is a relief’ _ he thought.  _ ‘At least she won’t kick me out like Uncle Vernon.’ _

“Get inside and prepare lunch. Vernon won’t come home until evening today so prepare him a small plate. After that, go weed the garden” she ordered. Harry just nodded silently and marched through the house and into the kitchen, dropping his bag in his cupboard on the way. After he had cooked a meal of bacon and toast for the rest of the family and having sneaked in a tiny piece for himself, he called out to Petunia and Dudley that the food was ready. He set their plates and went outside to toil in the dirt.

An hour later, muddy, cold and exhausted, for it was a winter day, Harry got up from the wet and now weed-free garden. He entered the house and silently went into his cupboard. Settling in the ragged blanket, he turned on the weak lightbulb and pulled out the book from his bag. The cover depicted the head of a dragon with the glittering words “The Dragon’s Eye” in the center. Silently, he opened the book and entered into the dragons’ world once more. 

He should have been paying more attention though, because a couple of hours later, the thundering footsteps of his uncle, Vernon Dursley, echoed through the house. Harry would’ve hidden the book by now, but his fascination with the story overrode his danger sense. Luckily, Vernon hadn’t noticed the light in the cupboard when he passed by, so he was safe for now. He kept reading the little book for another hour before he was done. 

The story was incredible; even though the explorer had completed the riddle and saved the town, the dragon was the one that had burnt the bandits and the whole surrounding forest to a crisp and had carried the explorer out of the wild and dangerous mountains. Best of all, when a group of hunters had heard about the dragon, they tried to capture it only for the beast to laugh in their faces and burn them too. That just further cemented the dragons’ power and freedom in the young Potter’s mind; they were unequaled among all others. He really wished he was a dragon.

He was about to turn back to the first page when the door to his cupboard violently opened. Standing there with a fat girth and a face that looked like a red beach ball was his uncle Vernon. He opened his mouth to say something when his little beady eyes trailed to the book that was in Harry’s now frozen-with-fear hands. When Vernon saw the cover of the book, he bared his teeth in rage and his face turned purple.

“BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!” he screamed as he pulled the thin child out of the closet and began pounding him with his meaty fists, all the while Harry tried to defend himself to no avail. Every time the fat man yelled a word, he pounded Harry with a stronger punch. “NO—FREAKISH—THINGS—IN—MY—HOUSE! YOU—DAMN—FREAK!” 

Harry’s vision started to dim as he started to succumb to the hits that were slowly damaging his frail body. His breathing slowed down to several gasps as he failed to resist the punishment. It wasn’t fair, why couldn’t he do anything? Why was he so weak?

He felt Vernon’s fists stop and he slowly lifted his head upwards, only for his green eyes to widen in horror as his uncle grabbed his book from inside the cupboard and started to slowly tear it apart. He mumbled  _ no  _ under his breath several times as he heard ripping sounds coming from the book and the pages were being torn from the book’s spine. Finally, Vernon tore the whole book in half with a small roar. At that moment, something inside young Harry Potter  _ snapped. _

Unknown to the boy, he was a wizard; a human who could manipulate and control magic. The source of his magic was his magical core, a metaphysical organ that generated and kept his magic flowing throughout his body. The most dangerous thing about magic, however, was its power to react in accordance with the caster’s emotions. When Harry had first found the book, he had subconsciously drawn on his magic to hide the book and himself while reading it from the librarian and the other schoolchildren. As he kept reading the book, his magic had also been subconsciously influenced to try and emulate the powers of the very creatures he had admired. However, due to an… _ unknown _ complication, his magic was instead bottling up with very little room to exit. When Vernon had ripped the book in half, Harry’s heightened emotional state was too much for his core to handle and it resulted in an _ …explosive _ …chain reaction.

At that moment, whatever was blocking his magic finally broke, and it rushed out and responded to the one thought that lingered in the boy’s mind: freedom. 

_ ‘I…I wanna go away…I don’t want to feel pain anymore…I…I want to be FREE!’  _

If one was to stand outside of Number 4 Privet Drive, they would’ve seen a brief flash of light from within the house before the whole house and garden were engulfed in a wave of fire with a loud and thunderous BANG. The blast shook the whole neighborhood and woke up the residents, who all rushed out to see the black smoking ruins of the home of Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley, along with the charred remains of their corpses. 

If they had paid close attention though, they would have noticed two things: first, they would have heard the faint, inhuman roar that echoed across the sky. Second, the remains of something were missing from the house. More accurately,  _ someone’s  _ remains…

**-OBW-**

Greegham Town was a small village on the outskirts of Fiore. It was a rather quiet and simple village, away from the hustle and bustle of civilization. It was surrounded by a large forest, so it was considered rather isolated from the rest of the country. Inside said forest, a hunter was running to search for his prey. The village has had rough times lately when it came to food since winter came and most of the animals had migrated or hid for hibernation, but he was sure that a few had still remained. 

He had already managed to shoot down a squirrel with his bow, and was now following another animal’s tracks, most likely a fox. He had already ventured deep into the forest and felt that he was getting closer to his prey. Sure enough, he had reached a small den where the fox was sure to be.

He was about to set up a trap when he heard a loud CRACK coming from behind him. He quickly whipped out his bow to defend himself, but instead, he saw something that made him gape in surprise. It was the body of a child, covered by large rags. How did a child end up here?

He quickly dashed to the frail-looking body, the fox left forgotten in his mind. He turned the body over to see a small boy’s face with messy black hair, large spectacles and a small lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. He checked the boy’s heartbeat and sighed in relief. He was alive but weak. What had happened to him?

He moved his hand to lift the boy when he heard a small moan of pain from his little mouth. Looking at where he had touched, he easily pulled down the rags to see what was wrong, but his eyes widened further at what he saw: large bruises covered the boy’s arm and when he pulled the rags down further, he saw that more of those bruises and cut littered the child’s frail body. They didn’t look like they came from an animal though. Abuse?

He was broken out of his stupor when the boy let out another soft moan of pain. He shook his head and dashed back to the village, carrying the boy bridal style. He would not let this child die.

**-OBW-**

Harry felt comfortable.

That was a new experience in itself since he had only felt like this several times in his life. The Dursleys didn’t allow him any form of comfort, so the sensation was unfamiliar to him. But he felt himself lying on something soft, something warm. He managed to regain some of his senses and opened his eyes a little. What he saw surprised him.

Instead of the dark ceiling of his cupboard, he saw a high, wooden ceiling. The child propped himself up with one hand and looked around. He was in a small room, with two windows, a door and a small desk with a pitcher of water. He himself was lying on a soft white bed.

_ ‘Where am I?’ _ he thought in worry.  _ ‘What happened?’  _ The last thing he remembered was suffering another beating at the hands of his uncle, said uncle ripping apart his book, a surge of pain and then…nothing. 

_ ‘My uncle…wait!’ _ he thought in surprise. He took another look around to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things and when he was done, a small pang of elation and relief flickered in his chest. This didn’t look like Number 4, or any other house he had seen for that matter.  _ ‘He’s not here…I finally left. I won’t have to feel their pain anymore…they can’t call me a worthless freak anymore. I’m…I’m free!’ _

He was broken from his happy thoughts when he heard the door open. Instinctively, Harry froze, thinking for a moment that Vernon was here. But instead of seeing his angry and overweight uncle, a young adult with black hair and green eyes entered. He wore a black coat, brown pants and a white shirt peeked from underneath. His eyes met Harry’s and he smiled.

“You’re awake! Are you alright there, little guy?” 

Now Harry was very confused. The man had asked if he was alright? No-one had ever done that before. But he managed to regain his bearings and uttered: “y-yes, sir.”

The man didn’t seem convinced, so he walked to Harry’s bedside and leaned down. Harry instinctively flinched, since usually whoever touched him would only want to harm him, but the man just placed a hand on his little forehead, like he had seen Petunia do with Dudley once when his cousin was sick. 

The man pulled his hand away and kept smiling at him. “You gave me quite the scare there back in the forest. What were you doing there?”

Harry tried to reply but found himself confused. “Forest?”

The man tilted his head with a curious look in his eyes. “You mean you don’t remember? I carried you here after I found you lying in the forest.” Harry just shook his head. There wasn’t a forest near Privet Drive.

The man just let out another smile before he pulled out a small loaf of bread from his coat and handed it to Harry. The young Potter was hesitant to take it but eventually relented to the man’s prodding. He took the loaf and began eating it with fervor. He had already taken a few bites when the man grasped his shoulder. “Whoa, slow down little guy, you’ll choke.”

While a tad startled by the sudden contact, Harry chewed slowly this time, making sure to savor the taste of the bread. He eventually finished the bread and rubbed his little tummy in satisfaction. He hadn’t had this much to eat since…ever!

The man just kept smiled and at him and dusted off some of the crumbs before speaking once more. “What’s your name kid?”

“H-Harry, sir.”

“Harry, huh? Pleased to meet you, Harry. My name is Kazuto. I’m a hunter.”

“Kazuto?” Harry asked, the word feeling foreign on his tongue.

“Yeah, that’s my name. Where are you from?”

“Um, Surrey, sir.” The man gave him an odd look and scratched his chin. “Surrey? Never heard of it. Where is it?”

“England, sir.” Kazuto kept giving him a funny look. Now Harry was confused. Did he not know what England was? “Sir, where am I?”

“You’re in Greegham Town in Fiore.” Harry just got more confused. Fiore? What’s that? Kazuto however shrugged and said “Well, it doesn’t matter where you’re from. How did you arrive in the forest? Magic?”

Harry’s mind immediately flashed back to the beating his uncle had given him before tearing his precious book. He unconsciously drew his little knees closer as he winced at the memory. He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder once more, and he saw Kazuto looking at him with a concerned expression. 

“Take it easy kid. I’m not gonna hurt you. Did you run away from home or something?” Harry meekly nodded, but he kept his mouth shut. “Did your relatives hurt you?” Harry nodded again, now looking away from Kazuto. “Well, don’t worry. They won’t hurt you anymore.” 

Harry sighed in relief. They really couldn’t hurt him anymore but…what now? Where could he go? Kazuto noticed the troubled look on Harry’s face and patted his back lightly. “If you want you can stay here. From the look of things, you don’t have anywhere to go, and it does get lonely here sometimes.” Harry blinked and looked at Kazuto’s eyes with shock. “R-really? I can stay here?”

“Heh-heh, sure you can kid. The more the merrier after all. I promise I won’t hurt you like whoever you ran away from.” Harry was too overwhelmed by the offer. He could stay? He wouldn’t hurt him like the Dursleys? All Harry could do was sniff and whisper “thank you.”

**-OBW-**

After his injuries were healed, Harry had taken up Kazuto’s offer to stay with him and it was the best thing that he felt had ever happened to him. The hunter never mistreated him and always answered any questions that he had (though he didn’t ask much). Kazuto had noticed that Harry was lacking in knowledge in a few things, so he had taught him how to read. He even got new clothes and food! He was still rather cautious though; his years of mistreatment made sure of that. 

When they entered the village square for the first time, Harry noticed a nearby bookshop. After getting permission from Kazuto, he entered the store where the shopkeeper smiled warmly at him and welcomed him in. What he found thanks to the books shocked him: namely the fact that he wasn’t in England anymore. He wasn’t even sure if he was on Earth anymore! Two things however made his jaw drop and would’ve kept dropping into the earth if it could;  _ magic and dragons existed. _

He finally understood what Kazuto meant by that when he asked him how did he end up in the forest. Apparently magic existed here and people could use it. Was that what had happened to him? Was he brought here by magic? 

The fact that he discovered dragons existed nearly made him squeal in delight. It was so awesome! They looked just like the ones in his books, even better! There was even one dragon, clad in black, that was said to be the most dangerous of them all, although he didn’t see any name. Kazuto had seen Harry’s fascination and talked to him about it. While sharing it, he warned the boy not to seek that dragon out. Harry had agreed upon seeing the look on Kazuto’s face, but it didn’t deter the desire to see it from within him.

In short, Harry felt like he couldn’t be happier. Until…

**-OBW-**

A month later, Harry was walking down the street eating another loaf of bread. Kazuto had gone shopping and told him to wait outside, giving him the bread to placate the boy. As he ate, he kept looking at the bookstore. There was this book that he wanted to read, so when he was done eating he would go there. Harry had swallowed the last piece of bread and was about to head to the book store when he heard screaming coming from the village. He turned his head to see what was wrong only to see several houses go up in flames. Screams soon rang out, and amidst the chaos, he could hear cackling coming from the flames. Harry tried to run, but another explosion rocked him off his feet. Het got up and tried to see what was happening. 

He saw black-cloaked men with swords and weapons burning down the village and attacking anyone that passed by. Some of them lifted their hands and giant fireballs shout out and burnt everything in their wake.  _ Magic. _

Harry panicked and tried to look for Kazuto, but he could barely see or hear anyone against the smoke and flames. He did find an empty alley though and ducked in. Making sure no one saw him, he peeked outside only to keep seeing those men destroy anything they saw. Out of the corner of his eye however, he saw Kazuto, holding his bow and trying to shoot down the attackers.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and kept watching. Kazuto kept firing arrows until he tried and failed to reach one due to an empty quiver. Harry took this moment to call out “Mr. Kazuto! Help!”

The hunter turned his head to Harry with a relieved expression and took a step forward to reach him. But before he took another step, fire erupted behind his back and through the hunter’s chest, making him fall to the ground. Harry gazed in horror at what he had just seen. He couldn’t comprehend the sight of the first person to treat him kindly die. He quickly rushed to Kazuto’s side and tried to wake him up, but to no avail.

He had no time to cry for a loud thumping noise was heard. He looked up with tears in his eyes only to see a tall figure clad in black metal and holding a flaming axe in one hand. In the other was a flag with the head of a wolf against a crescent moon. Under the wolf were the words: Midnight Wolf.

Harry was frozen in fear as the armored figure stepped forward and kicked him, sending him flying into the remains of the bookstore. He groaned in pain as he tried to stand up, only to feel his body burn with pain… _ just like at the Dursleys. _

He managed to turn his head though, just a slight turn. Meeting his gaze was a small drawing of the black dragon that got ripped from the book. His mind flashed back to what Vernon had done to him and his book before he arrived here. He started to panic when he heard the footsteps of the armored man drawing closer towards him. 

_ ‘No…not again…he told me…no one was going to…to hurt me anymore…they took him from me…’  _ he saw the picture again and his mind flashed again to the descriptions of the dragons he had read about, how they could burn an army and how nothing stopped them. Once more, his mind and magic cried for help.

Just as the armored figure stepped closer to him, he felt his body twist and he blacked out. All of that happened in a flash of light.

**-OBW-**

It was cold.

Cold wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation for Harry. There were a few times where he would be locked outside the house or his cupboard nearly froze during the winter, so he was rather acquainted with cold, not in a way any normal human would like though. What was weird this time was the feeling of lying on something cold, soft and wet. The green-eyed boy groaned as he tried to lift himself up or at least focus his eyes, but the pain he had received earlier still took a toll on his body so he couldn’t properly focus. Nonetheless, he tried to prop himself up with one hand and managed to rub an eye. After he managed to partially restore his vision, he found the answer to the quandary about the soft and cold sensations that he was feeling.

Harry was lying on a large bank of snow that stretched out as far as his coherent eye could see. A few trees were scattered around him, standing solitary against the white landscape. Up in the distance, against the setting sun, Harry could make out the faint shape of a mountain covered in snow. Harry looked around him and saw that with the exception of the mountain, everything else was pretty much the same. The cold wind and his growing fear made the frail child shiver.

_ ‘W-what happened?’ _ he thought.  _ ‘I was eating when the village just went up in flames, then those bad men attacked and…’ _ he slowly widened his eyes in horror as he realized what happened; his village was attacked and Kazuto was dead. He silently started to weep in sadness and confusion. What now? 

Harry was broken from his worried and tearful thoughts once more when he managed to get a glimpse of a black dot in the horizon near the mountain. As the seconds passed by, he could see the dot growing bigger and bigger, as well as hearing a faint flapping sound. Harry kept looking at the black dot for a few seconds before he realized something: it wasn’t getting bigger, it was getting  _ closer _ ! He panicked and tried to run away, but his injuries prevented him from properly moving, so he only crawled a foot before he saw a large shadow covering him and something heavy crashing down behind him. He slowly turned his head only to receive the shock of his life.

Standing above him, on four bulky arms, was a massive creature with black feathery wings. Its body was muscular and built like a human’s, and a massive black tail stuck out from underneath it. A large round head with four large plates stared at him with beady white eyes. Blue markings decorated its head, tail and wings. Its jaw was massive, filled with white razor-sharp teeth. 

_ A dragon.  _ But not just any dragon; the black dragon that Kazuto had warned him against.

Normally, a person would either scream, try to run, or faint at the sight of such a monstrous creature, but not Harry. He just gazed in shock and awe at the creature.  _ ‘It really is true’  _ he thought.  _ ‘He really does exist.’  _ For a minute, both dragon and human just stared at each other, neither of them moving. Then, the dragon snarled and dove its head towards Harry intent on attacking him. Immediately Harry panicked as he tried to defend himself by raising his tiny arms (no matter how futile the action seemed). Just before the dragon’s jaw reached him and gobbled him up, Harry felt something rush within his body and up his arm. A shockwave shot out of it and hit the dragon square in the snout, which made the dragon flick his head upwards and away from Harry. He tried to run, but he found that he couldn’t move. 

The dragon shook its head and looked at the boy again. It snarled once more, but this one was slower and fainter. It then bent its head down and did something that astounded Harry once more: it began to speak.

**“Who are you, boy?”**

Harry was just too astounded to reply. It could talk? He had never read about anything like that! He didn’t answer though and that must’ve annoyed the dragon, because it yelled  **“Speak!”**

Harry nearly jumped at the dragon’s tone and stammered out “I-I’m Harry.”

**“How did you get here?”**

“M-my village was attacked by bad magicians and they killed my friend. Then…I don’t know.” 

The dragon snorted and kept looking at him before slowly bending his head down and sniffing at him.  **“There is more you are not telling me. Your scent is foreign, a scent of magic that I cannot recognize. Lie to me again and I shall be most displeased. How did you get** **_here?_ ** **”** he asked, putting emphasis on the last word.

Harry gulped in fear as he stared into the dragon’s eyes. How did he know? But he didn’t want to be eaten so he said “M-my uncle beat me when he saw my book, I wanted for him to stop and I…just appeared at the village.”

The dragon growled once more before sniffing Harry again. When he was done, he lay down cross-armed on the snow, his gaze never leaving Harry’s. He eventually asked,  **“Where are you from?”**

“E-England.”

**“I do not recognize that name. You are not from Fiore, are you? By the scent of your magic, you came from another world.”**

“Um…I think so, sir” Harry replied, although he wasn’t really sure what the dragon was talking about.

The dragon snorted and kept staring at Harry, his head sometimes teetering to the side. He eventually asked  **“Your…uncle, you said he beat you. Why didn’t you stop him?”**

Harry winced at the memories that question bought up, including his own feeling of powerlessness as he suffered. “I…I don’t know. I…was…too weak.” Tears started to form in his eyes as he realized what happened to him. His precious book was gone and Kazuto was dead.

The dragon noticed this and asked,  **“Why are you crying whelp?”**

“I-I don’t have a home, I have nowhere to go and m-m-my friend d-d-d-died. H-he t-t-tried to f-f-fight them but…” Harry couldn’t go on through his sobbing.

**“So your friend was weak, then. Just like you.”** the dragon remarked. Harry shot a glare at the dragon for insulting his friend Kazuto. “He wasn’t weak!” he cried. “And I’m not weak either!”

**“The fact that he died so easily and the fact that you couldn’t defend yourself says that you are both weak.”** “You’re lying!” Harry shouted. **“I have no reason to lie to you, human”** the dragon replied, huffing in what looked like exasperation. 

Harry just sat silently, glaring at the dragon for what he had said. The thing that stung though, was the fact that it was true; he  _ was  _ weak.

“I’ll show you” he muttered. The dragon snapped his gaze back at Harry as he managed to finally stand up on his frail legs. “I’ll show you! I’m not weak!” he yelled.

The dragon just stared at him for a while, his gaze matching Harry’s green eyes. The dragon then let out a slow chuckle and asked  **“Tell me boy, do you desire power? Do wish to be strong?”**

“I want to be strong! I don’t want anyone to hurt me again!” Harry yelled. “I want to be strong like a…” he flashed back to his time in the school library and the bookstore, remembering the one creature that he had read was stronger than anything else. “I want to be strong like a dragon!”

The dragon stared at him in what seemed like open shock before erupting into laughter that echoed around him. He then rose up and stared at the boy, spreading his wings wide and baring his teeth into a grin.  **“You want power? Then you shall have it. Do you desire strength? Then you shall achieve it. I will grant you power unequaled among men…”** Harry’s expression grew hopeful.

**“For I am Acnologia, the Dragon King. You shall be my dragonslayer…and my son.”**

**-OBW-**

**What do you think? If you see anything that might seem too OOC, then don’t worry; all will be explained next chapter.**

**Read and Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1 – Acnologia**

Up the white slopes of Mt. Zonia, up on the flat peak, lay Acnologia. Who was frankly, rather bored.

Mt. Zonia was one of the most remote locations in all of Fiore. Standing tall in the far northeast, a few hundred kilometers away from the nearest town, it was renowned for its quiet beauty and frigid weather. The tall mountain was the epicenter of an eternal cold, with a near spotless blanket of white snow covering everything in a distance of several kilometers. Whatever had caused the mountain to be encased in an unending winter, no one really knew or cared, but a few attributed supernatural causes to the phenomenon. White, wispy clouds and a thick fog obscured the peak, giving it a mysterious aura and inspiring superstitions amongst the locals (who were, at the closest, 70 kilometers away, and that was just a small ramshackle village). 

Someone even said that in the past, a black angel and white angel did battle over a certain man, with the white angel coming out victorious, thus as result, the mountain was graced with white snow that continuously falls ever since their clash. But that was just legend.

Very few claimed that they have successfully climbed the peak of the mountain, so it would be a perfect place for someone to hide or live in obscurity, as long as they didn’t mind the year-long cold and occasional snowstorms. Furthering its remoteness, it stood a fair distance from the great mountain ranges of the east, so it deterred any mountain climbers, thrill-seekers or adventurers; the mountains there weren’t as nearly as cold. 

That was why the Dragon King, Acnologia, chose this place as his refuge. Peaceful, quiet, remote, and far away from some of his least favorite creatures in the world; humans. He honestly couldn’t stand or understand the pathetic little creatures. They personified the one thing he hated above all else: weakness.

Many of them have tried to harm him or killing, disillusioning themselves with the delusional thought that they could conquer him and present him as a trophy to the other humans like their little beasts, only for them to die in agony; die because of their weakness.

He could never understand weakness, for that is why he hated it. As one of the most, if not the most, powerful beings on Fiore and even his world, as well as being an enormous black dragon, the concept was so utterly alien to him that he couldn’t comprehend the fact that someone couldn’t attain the same level of power as he did all those years ago. Here though, on the slopes of the snowy mountain, he had peace and quiet, he wasn’t bothered by anything else and could live in solitude with the only one he cared for; himself.

The (rather ironic) fact was that he was human too, once upon a time. A little more than 400 years ago, there was a war between dragons and humans and thanks to their superior strength, they were slowly winning. But there were a few dragons who spoke out against the war and allied themselves with humans. After foreseeing that they would be losing the battle, those dragons and humans fused their magics together, giving certain humans the power to push back and defeat their adversaries: the power of the Dragon Slayers. Among those humans, a blue-haired child was cited as exceptionally powerful. But that was long ago and in another life, he had overcome that weakness.

So it was there, on the mountaintop that Acnologia was curled up and lost in empty thoughts when he felt a wave of magic wash over him. He grunted in annoyance and opened a beady white eye. Another attempt at attacking him by foolish humans? He was about to scoff at the fact that they never learned when he felt something unusual. The magic that he was feeling, it was…searching him, for a lack of a better word, rather than trying to harm him. He also noticed another thing: unlike the magic he was used to, this magic felt…strange. Different than anything else he had felt before. But just as he felt it, the magic vanished as quickly as it came. Now he was confused; what had just happened?

He was broken from his confusion when he felt the same magic flash some distance from away from him, on the white plains away from the mountain. Acnologia raised his snout and caught a whiff of a familiar scent, one that was tied to this strange magic.

**_‘A human?’_ ** he thought.  **_‘What is one doing out here?’_ **

Normally, the black dragon would just ignore anything of the sorts and go to sleep. He had lived too long to be surprised at something like this. However, the strangeness and foreign feel of the magic had somewhat piqued his curiosity.

That, and he was bored. He might as well stretch a little.

The black dragon rose up and spread his gigantic wings. He was truly a sight to behold; his massive size and terrifying figure had paralyzed armies of mortals just by gazing upon him. As they should. With a small leap and a beat of his wings, he took off in the direction of the scent.

He soared across the snowy field as he tracked the scent. He soon caught sight of its source with his dragonic eyes, but he had to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.  **_‘A child?’_ **

The little human must’ve noticed him because he started crawling in the opposite direction. Acnologia flew closer him and soon enough landed hard with his snout above the human.

It really was a child. He had messy black hair and wore a dark tattered shirt, exposing his small and thin frame to the dragon. His dark brown pants had holes in them and a bruising on the knee was shown. The child was also leaning on one arm, implying that further injuries rested there too. The scent of flame lingered on the tiny human.

But the most out of place thing on the human were his eyes. Behind an odd set of tools (glasses, he heard they were called) were a pair of deep green eyes. That in of itself was normal, there were odder eye colors out there. The astonishing thing about them was the emotion behind them.

Normally when humans saw him they gazed at him with looks of total fear, pure horror and sometimes hatred. Other humans may be discomforted by such looks, but not the Dragon King. Those looks served as a reminder that they were weaker than him and that they could do nothing to stop him. It gave him a satisfied feeling. 

But this child, this tiny whelp of a human had no fear or hate in his eyes, at least none that he could see. Instead, his eyes seemed to be filled with awe and…was that wonder?

In a brief moment of befuddlement, a compounding result of everything that had happened in the last few minutes, Acnologia snarled and went into a flash of rage. How dare this child mock him! He was the Black Dragon of Apocalypse, a symbol of fear and strength; not some weak hero of a fairy tale that you would get all starry-eyed at! He quickly dropped his snout down, jaws and teeth agape. This will teach that whelp to fear him. Just as his jaw started to close on the child though, something that he had never thought possible happened:

The child raised his uninjured hand in a moment of panic (good) and Acnologia smashed his jaw into some sort of invisible barrier, which caused him to pull his head back and recoil in pain – wait, what!?

He twitched his jaw a bit to make sure that he wasn’t imagining things. He couldn’t believe it – it lasted a second, but he felt the one thing he hadn’t felt in 400 years –  **pain** . No one had caused him pain in such a long time, and now a human child did so? This was absurd. He slowly turned his head back towards the boy, who now had some fear in his eyes, but the awe and wonder from before still remained. 

He mentally narrowed his eyes and asked in a menacing tone  **“Who are you boy?”**

The boy in question just kept staring at him and had now grown open-mouthed. Acnologia growled at the lack of response; the whelp didn’t learn yet it seems.  **“Speak!”**

The boy was startled, but he managed to speak. “I-I’m Harry.” 

Harry, huh? What a weak sounding name.  **“How did you get here?”**

“M-my village was attacked by bad magicians and they killed my friend. Then…I don’t know” he replied, still speaking in that frightened tone. The Dragon King bent closer to him and sniffed at him a little bit. Thanks to his superb senses, he could detect when someone lied to him. There was no lie in the boy’s statement, but something was missing from it; the foreign magic that was practically radiating from him. Now that he had taken a closer feel, he had confirmed that the magic really didn’t feel at all like anything he had ever encountered…or anything from this world at all. Could it be…

**“There is more you are not telling me. Your scent is foreign, a scent of magic that I cannot recognize. Lie to me again and I shall be most displeased. How did you get** **_here?_ ** **”**

The child widened his eyes in shock, realizing what he had just referred to. Rather smart for a whelp. “M-my uncle beat me when he saw my book, I wanted for him to stop and I…just appeared at the village.”

Acnologia growled before sniffing the boy again. Like before, he didn’t sense any lie. He laid down on the snow and crossed his arms, his eyes never leaving the child. ‘ **_So he was abused by his family?_ ** ’ he mentally snorted. Typical humans, not even caring about their own kind or kin. Yet another reason why he hated them – the abusers for their uncaringness (not that  _ he _ cared), and the abused for being too weak to stand up to them. 

**“Where are you from?”** he eventually asked.

“England, sir” the boy replied. Acnologia mentally raised an eyebrow at that. Sir? He had never been called that before. Still, he searched for a place matching such a name, but he couldn’t find anything in his vast and ancient memories, not on Fiore or anywhere else. Combined with the magic’s foreign scent, that left only one option. 

**“I do not recognize that name. You are not from Fiore, are you? By the scent of your magic, you came from another world.”**

“U-um, yes sir” replied the whelp. A hint of confusion appeared in his eyes though, so he wasn’t really sure that the answer was correct; but no matter. 

He kept looking at the child and focused on the bruises on his frail body. While a couple looked recent, no doubt because of the “bad magicians” the child had mention, the majority of them looked rather old, probably because of his uncle hurting him. The great dragon mentally frowned in distaste; why would anyone allow themselves to receive such pain? He might as well ask.

**“Your…uncle, you said he beat you. Why didn’t you stop him?”** The child looked at him with a grimace and a slight fading in his eyes. Maybe he was remembering what had happened? He was no expert on human psychology. Eventually, the child replied, albeit with tears and sobbing. “I…I don’t know. I…was…too weak.”

The response was somewhat unexpected by Acnologia. He had voluntarily admitted that he was weak? No normal human, child or not, would admit that out of the blue. The boy’s sobbing continued as more tears streamed down his cheeks. ‘ **_Great’_ ** he thought.  **_‘Now I need to calm him down if I want him talking again.’_ ** The dragon completely ignored the fact that he had no idea how to do such a thing and asked  **“Why are you crying whelp?”**

“I-I don’t have a home, I have nowhere to go and m-m-my friend d-d-d-died. H-he t-t-tried to f-f-fight them but…” the child trailed off, still sobbing. Ah, so that was the reason. Well, there was no question as to why he died, in Acnologia’s experience.

**“So your friend was weak then. Just like you”** he remarked. In response, the boy gave him his rather pathetic version of a glare and cried “He wasn’t weak! I’m not weak too!” 

Bah, so he thought otherwise? Typical human.  **“The fact that he died so easily and the fact that you couldn’t defend yourself says that you are both weak.”** That was the truth and nothing more. “You’re lying!” the whelp shouted. **“I have no reason to lie to you, human”** the dragon replied, huffing in exasperation. Honestly, why did humans always seem to deny the truth and disillusion themselves?

The child kept glaring at him although he remained quiet. Eventually, he muttered something that the dragon missed. Tilting his head in inquiry, the child shakily stood up and yelled “I’ll show you! I’m not weak!”

Now normally, Acnologia didn’t believe in prophecies or premonitions, and even to ones predicted by magic he had some skeptical thoughts. But when the boy stood up, still wounded and announced his desire, he felt something within the boy, something that he was told once when he was chosen to be a dragonslayer; an enormous potential. At that moment, something clicked within Acnologia’s head. A child with a desire for power and a hatred for weakness. Originating from another world and teleported right near his domain by foreign magic (that topic was still a bit hard to fully digest). Subconsciously, the black dragon connected the dots, although he wouldn’t acknowledge it. If he really was going to do…what he was going to do, then the human had to be something special, something unique, and a little wizard from another world certainly fit the criteria.

Slowly, the black dragon let out a deep chuckle. His white eyes met the boy’s green ones and asked  **“Tell me boy, do you desire power? Do wish to be strong?”**

“I want to be strong! I don’t want anyone to hurt me again!” the whelp yelled. “I want to be strong like a…” he trailed off for a moment, before gazing back up and meeting his eyes determinately. “I want to be strong like a dragon!”

Acnologia let his jaw fall open in shock before bursting into a fit of laughter. This was truly better than what he had hoped for! This was what he was looking for! More than anything else, the Dragon King desired a challenge, a battle where he could truly let loose. He hadn’t found anyone that could grant him such a pleasure, not since that damnable black wizard disappeared, so when the child fully proclaimed his desire, an old human saying popped into his head that fit the situation perfectly:

“If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.”

If he couldn’t find a challenge, he would just have to make a challenge; and what better challenge there would be than to fight another black dragon like himself?

He rose up, standing on his arms and legs and stared at the boy, spreading his wings wide and baring his teeth into a grin.  **“You want power? Then you shall have it. You desire strength? Then you shall achieve it. I will grant you power unequaled among men…”** The whelp’s expression grew hopeful. Good, he looked eager.

**“For I am Acnologia, the Dragon King. You shall be my dragonslayer…and my son.”**

**-OBW-**

A week had passed since Acnologia decided to take Harry in as his son, and needless to say he had been very thorough with his training. Having decided that he needed to get rid of Harry’s thin frame, the black dragon put him through a series of rigorous physical tests, such as making him run laps around the mountain while it was still cold or barely bringing him food, which consisted of nothing more than a few berries. Whenever they slept, Acnologia did so on the cold mountaintop, with Harry lying against the rocks, away from the dragon. Acnologia’s interest was piqued once more when the whelp never once complained about his regimen, when most fully grown humans would’ve screamed their heads off by now.

As for Harry himself, he understood his new father’s (he still had trouble wrapping his head around the fact that a dragon had adopted him) reasoning for training him so hard. The training had started the next morning after he was brought to the mountain, leaving him no time to grieve for his fallen friend. While he was a bit put off by that, he never once protested; he didn’t want his body to be weak. 

That, and the Dursleys had made him sleep in a cramped little cupboard that was freezing half the time and abused him for no good reason, other than the fact that he was a “freak”. At least here he had way more space to sleep in and he was hurting for a good reason.

He didn’t want to let down his new father after all.

The only downside, as mention before, was the fact that he was given no time to grieve for Kazuto, something that made him have nightmares and disturb his sleep (in addition to the cold). He would constantly see his friend’s anguished face against a burning village as he was cut down by that armored man. Again, he didn’t complain.

But even with the (unknowing) support of his inner magic, Harry’s frail body and mind could only endure so much. So it was that one the 7 th night, a snowstorm blew over the mountain. Acnologia was sleeping completely unperturbed by the freezing cold, while Harry slept away from him like usual, but his body started to shiver uncontrollably, after another heart-wrenching nightmare. He opened his eyes to see that the snow around the dragon had melted and a faint warmth emanated from his scaled body. Despite his mind protesting that he shouldn’t bother the dragon, his body slowly got up and hobbled over to the dragon. He then laid down and curled up near his father’s warm body.

**“What are you doing whelp?”**

Acnologia had sensed that the boy had moved closer to him despite what he had told him to. Harry by now had completely settled near his body and muttered with a dazed tone “You’re warm.”

**“I told you to sleep over there.”**

Harry didn’t listen, and even nudged a little closer. “It’s cold out there, and you’re really warm” he replied with the same tone.

Acnologia just growled in frustration. Why did humans have to be so fragile? The whelp hadn’t complained once in the past week, so why now? The worse part of it was that he couldn’t refute that piece of childish logic, no matter what he tried to think of.

He turned his head to the whelp’s sleeping form to nudge him away when an image flashed in his head, one that he had thought was long forgotten; a little girl, lying wounded on the cold ground. That image briefly overlapped with that of the boy’s, causing him to pause. He kept looking at the boy before sighing in resignation. If he really was going to go through with this, then he couldn’t afford to cut corners; it wouldn’t do for his challenge-in-the-making to break down so soon. He moved his tail a bit and draped a wing over the whelp’s body.

**“I suppose it can’t be helped. Tomorrow I will take you to the nearest human settlement to acquire some clothes, but you will have to learn how to take care of yourself.”**

If he was going to make a dragon, he would need to learn how to raise a human first.

**-OBW-**

Harry woke up to a feeling of warmth he couldn’t remember from the past week. He rubbed his eyes from under his brittle glasses and noticed that the rocks he usually slept on were farther away than normal. The deep voice he had come to associate with his new father made him turn his head.

**“Wake up whelp.”**

He turned and saw that the dragon was practically curled up around him. Having no memory of the previous night, he was rather confused; why did his father help him now? Putting that thought aside, he got up and gaped at the sight before him; a beautiful sunrise on the snowy plains, making the white powder glisten like diamonds.

**“We are going to get you some supplies”** Acnologia said, lifting himself up and holding out a black claw for him.  **“Get on.”** There was no way he was going to let a human ride on his back, son or not.

Harry snapped out of his little trance and climbed on the dragon’s open palm. The giant hand then slightly closed, leaving him room to look around. With a mighty beat of wings, Acnologia and Harry were soon flying across the land. The nearest human town was more than a hundred kilometers away, but Acnologia could make it there in a few minutes in Harry-safe speeds.

Harry meanwhile was gazing at the passing landscape with a look of total awe. The turmoil from the past week was left forgotten as he became entranced by this new view of the world. The snowy mountains and plains were soon replaced by a grassy countryside, leaving Harry to revel in this new sense of freedom. This new experience made Harry proclaim once more:

“Now I really want to be like a dragon if I could fly like this!”

Amazingly, Acnologia had heard his little voice thanks to his enhanced senses.  **“You will in due time. I would expect no less.”**

Soon enough, the two landed several miles in a clearing outside a small town called Kilika Town, away from prying eyes. Harry was left confused, a result of his exhilaration; why couldn’t they just land next to the town?

“Why couldn’t you land closer?”

**“Don’t complain, whelp.”** Harry opened his mouth to protest but was off.  **“Now!”** Harry stood there for a second before jumping off the now-open palm, grumbling a bit.

“Don’t do that. It’s unbecoming of you.” His father ordered, although his voice sounded less deep and not booming than before. 

Harry quickly turned around to see that instead of a dragon, a blue-haired man stood before him. He was tall and muscular, with dark tanned skin and sharp eyes with small black rings around them. His long hair went to his back and was blue; something Harry had never seen before. Blue markings adorned his arms and the sides of his face. He wore a long, high-collared black cloak and baggy black pants with the same markings. Around his neck was a necklace of red teeth. 

Harry was confused; what happened to his father?

“You didn’t think I would enter a human town as a dragon, did you?” the man asked in a condescending tone.

While a bit baffled at the man’s statement, his little jaw slowly dropped as he connected the dots in his head. “Did you just…?” he gestured to the man.

The man – or rather, Acnologia – raised an eyebrow. He caught on quickly, it seemed. Still, no time for delays. “We’re wasting time. Follow me.” He then started walking to the town with Harry close behind. 

They soon reached the small town. It didn’t look like anything remarkable; there were shops, signs, benches, trees; the kind of things one would expect from a place like this. The people were nothing special too; just people who scurried around, living their everyday lives.

As the two walked through the town, Harry looked up at his father and asked “How did you do that? Turn into a human I mean.” He hadn’t read anything in his books that said that a dragon could turn into a human. 

While a bit annoyed at his son’s new desire for questions (he really was stooping low), he did owe him an answer, even if it would go over his head. “I use a very special kind of magic called Dragon Slayer Magic. My type of magic in particular allows me to absorb the energy of the pathetic dragons I have slain. The more I slay, the more my power grows, until it enabled me to reach this form. While it is weaker, it is rather functional for many situations such as this one.”

Harry just gave him a weird look. “I don’t understand.” He said.

_ ‘I know. Maybe he isn’t as observant as I thought he was’  _ Acnologia thought.

After buying some clothes (which consisted of pants, sandals and shirts) the two headed back to the main street. They passed by a small bakery, where several pastries were left out to cool, letting their aroma spread. Harry took a whiff and was reminded by all the bread and pastries he ate with Kazuto. He tried to reach out but his father pulled him back. “We don’t have time for this, whelp. We have to –“

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by a loud gurgling sound. One look at Harry’s blushing face told him all that he needed to know. If he was in dragon form he would keep pulling, but his decision from the night before made him pause and sigh.  _ ‘He hasn’t eaten since yesterday morning, hasn’t he? I haven’t eaten for…how long was it again?’  _ While he could go on without food or water far longer than most humans, he still needed to eat sometime.

“What do you want to eat, brat?” he asked in resignation. This was going to be much more of a chore than he thought it would be. 

Harry just smiled before pointing at the delicious-smelling pastries.

That was how Acnologia found himself and Harry sitting on a bench, with his son happily eating a large chocolate pastry while he held a loaf of sourdough bread that he tore pieces of. He looked at his new protégé and admitted that he looked better than before; he now wore a blue long-sleeved shirt, black sandals that covered his ankle and foot leaving the toes open  **(Naruto sandals)** and baggy black pants (just like him). The only eyesore he could see were his glasses. No self-respecting dragon wore those.

“You’ll have to get rid of those ridiculous things on your eyes, whelp.” He remarked. Harry paused his eating and swallowed to answer back.

“But I can barely see without them.” he replied.

“Your dragon training will develop your eyesight in due time to the point where you can throw away those things, so don’t bother yourself.” Harry brightened up at that. Kids made fun of his glasses back in Surrey, and Petunia got those for him at a thrift store only after she found out he really needed them.

As Harry went back to eating, the Dragon King noticed something peeking out from under his son’s hair. “Brat, lift your hair up for a second.” Harry did so while still munching on the pastry.

On the boy’s forehead was a red scar shaped like a lightning bolt. While Acnologia had seen far stranger markings on one’s body, the one on his son looked rather strange. “How did you get that scar one your forehead?”

Harry swallowed the last piece of his pastry and frowned. “My aunt told me that I got it after a car crash when my drunk parents died.”

While he didn’t know what a “car crash” was, Acnologia assumed that he referred to some sort of accident. But no matter how much he thought about it, that scar looked far too precise to be caused by a mere accident. He cleared his throat and motioned for the boy to come closer. He did so and Acnologia put a finger on his son’s forehead and closed his eyes.

_ ‘Just as I suspected’  _ he thought.  _ ‘This scar was caused by a direct attack on him. One tainted with dark magic, in fact it still lingers. It might become a problem in the future so that will have to go as well.’ _

He removed his finger and was met by the boy’s curious stare. “Just a little suspicion of mine. But if I’m correct, then that scar will be gone by the time I’m done with you.”

Harry stared at him in awe. Nothing but pure awe and adoration was in his head. This was the best thing that had ever happened to him; not even Kazuto could give him what Acnologia had done! The fact that he was a dragon was just the icing on the proverbial cake. He didn’t want to do it, since the dragon was very mindful about his personal space and the fact that Kazuto allowed him to do so to him, out of impulse he tackled Acnologia and hugged him. “Thank you.” He whispered.

Said dragon froze in surprise at the unexpected sign of affection; even more so when he didn’t move to remove the boy from around his waist. He didn’t really know what to do now. He just sighed and considered it another oddity of humans. Besides, Harry wasn’t going to be a carbon copy of him; what fun would that be when they clash? 

Still, it was a bit uncomfortable for him so he sighed and said “Get off me, brat.”

Harry did so with some reluctance since he didn’t want to anger his father. Instead, he just got another annoyed stare, rather than an angry one. “Try not to do that again, it’s embarrassing.” Harry nodded.

After making sure all of their things were accounted for, the two walked back to the clearing they had landed in. Acnologia dropped the bags at Harry’s feet before walking over to the center of the clearing. He turned his head to the sides a few times before turning to Harry with a smirk, revealing two fangs in his teeth and a wicked gleam in his eye.

“Don’t get comfortable whelp, because when we get back I will train you so hard that you will beg for death. But I believe a little incentive is in order; should you master the power of the dragonslayer, this is what will await you…”

With those words, a blue aura appeared around Acnologia and his hair rose up. A crack of thunder later, and two large wings sprouted from behind his back. There was a flash of light, and where the man once stood, the form of the Dragon King appeared, towering over the boy, who gazed at the whole scene wide-eyed.

**“…so don’t disappoint me brat.”**

**-OBW-**

True to his word, when they flew back to the mountain, Acnologia made Harry run around the mountain several times. When he was finished, the Dragon King transformed into his human form and attacked the boy until he dodged, which was all he could do. He then made him climb the mountain up and down. By the time the sun set, Harry’s body had ached like never before and he was left panting on the ground with several wounds and felt like his arms and legs were on fire. What was worse was the queasiness he felt in his stomach, which he later learned was the pastry he ate.

_ ‘He let me eat that on purpose’  _ he thought with irritation.  _ ‘He just had to.’ _

He kept panting and tried to move his arms, but was met with aches instead. When his vision cleared, Acnologia’s human form stood above him, arms crossed and a smirk on his face.

“You survived. You’re more resilient than I thought you would be. Now get up, there’s food.”

Harry did so despite his body’s protests. He then followed his blue-haired father to the side of the mountain. They arrived at a series of jagged rocks. In a flash of blue light, Acnologia transformed, grabbed his son and flew upwards. But instead of flying to the top, he stopped a dozen meters below it and held out his Harry-filled palm to side of the mountain.

Harry was greeted to the sight of a very large cave. A few pointed rocks (which he would come to learn later were called stalagmites) were positioned on its far side. In the center of the cave was a small fire with the roasted carcass of an animal lying near it.

The green-eyed child drooled at the scent wafting from the carcass and hopped off the dragon’s hand. He ran to the hunk of meat and began rapidly tearing through it. When Acnologia entered, the sight was rather amusing; he looked like a dragon already with how he ate that. He went to Harry and cleared his throat, which made the boy stop and look up at him.

“From now on you will sleep here; this is a cave I use to rest in when the mountaintop becomes boring for me, so I will sometimes drop by here. I will teach you how to hunt and make your own fire so you can get your own food, so don’t expect anything like this next time.”

Harry just nodded and went back to his food. Acnologia sat down cross-legged next to him and just stared at the fire. Eventually, a stray thought wormed its way into his head. It was so unimportant and fleeting that would normally dismiss it, but he was (re)learning things about humans, so he might as well…

“Whelp, do you have a last name?”

Harry lifted his head from his meal and gave him an odd look. “If I remember correctly, most humans have last names; do you?”

The boy swallowed his meat and replied “Harry Potter. My full name is Harry Potter.”

Potter? What kind of a name was Potter? Certainly not one that instilled fear and terror, that’s for sure. “That’s no good. If you want to be a dragon, then you need to have a name befitting one as well.”

The boy now turned his full attention to him. Good. He searched his vast mind for a good name, one worthy of the son of the Dragon King. A minute later, a name popped into his head; one that he had read many years ago, the name of one who was considered to be the former Dragon King…

He got and walked towards the boy. “Rise.”

The boy stood up and wiped his mouth, green eyes looking expectantly at him. He raised his arm and put his large hand over the boy’s head, as though about to recite a prayer; which he was, in a way.

“From this day forward your old life is gone. Ashes of the past. The life and power of a dragon awaits you, and so by my power as the Dragon King, I bestow upon you, my son, this name:

I proclaim you  **Bahamut** , Son of Acnologia.”


End file.
